Our Song
by Alex Freakin' Way
Summary: Songfic Teenage MarkRoger.


**I was riding shot gun, with my hair undone **

**in the front seat of his car**

**He's got a one hand feel on the steering wheel**

**the other on my heart**

**i look around, turn the radio down.**

**He said baby is something wrong?**

**I say nothing I was just thinking how we don't have a song**

**and he said...**

Riding around with Roger in his parent's car always made me the happiest. I was sixteen, young and free, in a car with my seventeen year old boyfriend. His hair was hanging it his face, because he hadn't spiked it today. Mine was undone too, sticking up in almost every direction. Normally this would make me self conscious, but I was just with Roger. The radio was playing all these love songs, and it made me think. I turned the radio off, and he turned to me, asking if I was alright. I nodded, but spoke what was on my mind. We didn't have a song.

**Our song is the slamming screen door**

**Sneaking out late, tapping on your window,**

**when we're on the phone and you talk real slow**

**cause it's late and your mama don't know**

**Our song is the way you laugh, **

**first date man I didn't kiss her and I should have**

**and when I got home, before I said amen**

**asking God if he would play it again.**

Roger looked at me, and chuckled. He asked if that was really all I was thinking about, and when I assured him he parked the car and looked into my eyes. He told me how our song was the sound the door made when I slammed it behind me before I went out to meet him. He talked about how it was the squeaks the floor made when he was sneaking out to see me, and the sound of him tapping on the glass of my window. He told me how it was me talking on the phone late at night, trying to be quiet so my parents wouldn't hear. He kept talking about how it was the way I laugh, and how he should have kissed me on our first date. He said he asked God every night to play the song again before he went to bed. I knew I was blushing, but he just kissed me and let me out at my house.

**I was walking up the front porch steps after everything that day**

**had gone all wrong, and been trampled on,**

**and lost and thrown away. **

**Got to the hallway, well on my way**

**To my loving bed, I almost didn't notice all the roses and the **

**note that said...**

I stumbled home after a long day at school. I had gotten a bad grade on a pop quiz, gotten picked on non-stop, and one guy even knocked the glasses off my face and stepped on them before cussing me out and heading off. As soon as I got home I started to my room, ready to lie down and just nap away all of the hurt of the day. Its then I saw the two roses taped to my door with a note. It held the "song" Roger had said yesterday. I fell asleep in happiness.

**Our song is the slamming screen door**

**Sneaking out late, tapping on your window,**

**when we're on the phone and you talk real slow**

**cause it's late and your mama don't know**

**Our song is the way you laugh, **

**first date man I didn't kiss her and I should have**

**and when I got home, before I said amen**

**asking God if he would play it again.**

I awoke to the sound of tapping on my window, and went to open it. Roger was standing outside, and he gave me another note. It said the exact same thing. He winked at me, and went and got in his car to drive away. Dang, that boy was a romantic guy.

**I've heard every album, listened to the radio**

**Waited for something to come alone**

**That was as good as our song...**

I think Roger could be a song writer. Honest to God, I think "our song" is the best song I've ever heard. I've listened to the radio, and probably every album in the world and I haven't heard something near as good. I know why though. It's because...

**Our song is the slamming screen door,**

**sneaking out late, and tapping on his window**

**When we're on the phone and he talks real slow**

**cause it's late and his mama don't know**

**Our song is the way he laughs**

**the first date man, I didn't kiss him and I should have**

**and when I got home, before I said amen**

**Asking God if he could play it again.**

If you ask me, our song is him slamming the door when he's leaving to meet me. It the way the floor squeaks when I'm trying to not wake up mom or dad or Cindy when I sneak out, and the sound it makes when I tap on his window to wake him up. If he thinks I'm the only one who talks really slow on the phone late at night, he's dead wrong. His mom doesn't know either. It's his laugh that really lights up a room, and after our first date when I asked God to play it again, thats the real version of our song.

**I was riding shotgun with my hair undone**

**in the front seat of his car**

**I grabbed a pen and an old napkin,**

**and I wrote down our song....**


End file.
